Chapter 4 - Complicated

It is 6:30 a.m. when they get home. In the hospital, Pran did a blood check for drugs, and it was proven he was indeed drugged with a popular date rape drug. The police were called in when Pran woke up, and they presented a formal complaint. Then, he was released from the hospital with the warning that they would need to come back if Pran displayed warning signs like seizures.

"Are you hungry?"

Pran had been fed in the hospital. Still, he didn't eat that much.

"No. Just tired."

"You should rest then. Take a shower and go to bed. I'll stay while you sleep to watch over you."

"Thank you, Pat."

Pran exits the living room in the direction of the bathroom. A minute later, Pat can hear the water of the shower running.

The quantity of drugs Pran took was small but enough to put him in that state for some hours. The images of what could have happened keep repeating in Pat's head. He feels revolted at the thoughts. Damn! A slap on Pran's irresponsible ass is the thing that he's yearning for the most. Scratch that, second most. The first would be to rip off that disgusting fucker's skin and burn him alive. That guy could have taken Pran away and done with him whatever he wanted. Then, leave him like nothing.

Tears of rage and frustration threaten to come out of his eyes. He knows that he needs to control himself. Pran has already gone through a lot tonight. In an attempt to distract himself, he takes his phone out and rechecks Pa's voice message saying she had reached home safely and to call her once they get out of the hospital. He still didn't call her. Let her sleep a bit. He doesn't even want to imagine if this had happened to her. A feeling of fear mixed with a lack of power overcomes him. What if this happens to her, and he's not there? What if this happens to Pran again?

He tries to remember again the face of the guy who gave that drink to Pran, but his tensed muscles and chapped lips are the only things he can see, the image blurred in his mind.

A soft touch of his shoulder makes him jump.

"Are you okay?"

Pat turns to see Pran. He has changed clothes and is now wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts, his hair still slightly wet.

Pat nods, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a slight headache."

"The nurse said you could take an analgesic if you needed it. I have it somewhere."

Pat starts heading for the sofa, where he left the bag with the food and medication, but Pran stops him. He grabs his hand, drawing circles with his thumb over Pat's skin.

"It's okay. I can bear with it for now. I think I'm just tired."

"Hum... So go to bed."

Pat recovers his hand from Pran's grip, and Pran knits his eyebrows.

"Are you angry about something?"

Pat tightens his lips.

"No."

"Yes, you are. What's going on?"

Why is he pushing him? Just let him alone. Don't provoke!

"Nothing."

"Pat."

The way he called him was not soft, as if he was trying to convince him to talk. No. It was authoritarian. The nerve…

"Pat, tell me," he repeats in that same tone.

The words come faster than what Pat can grasp, "Shut up and go to sleep, Pran! You've done enough for today."

Pat feels a pinch of regret right after these sentences. Strong enough for him to try and control his voice.

"I've done enough? What the hell, Pat?"

The anger boiling inside Pat's chest is making his body tremble.

"What the hell? «What the hell» is what I should say to you, Pran! What the fucking hell was that? Are you a child? Who accepts drinks from strangers in a club?"

Pran's eyes widen in surprise.

"How was I supposed to know that drink was spiked?"

"You shouldn't have accepted it in the first place!" Pat is now screaming, "Can you imagine what could have happened? That guy would have taken you somewhere, do… I don't even want to think what he could have done to you! I…" Pat passes his hands through his hair, gripping it in frustration, "He would have done whatever he wanted to do with you and then left you all alone without a thought. Or worse! I… You… FUCK!"

Pran wet gaze is on Pat, but he cannot take it. He lowers his head, shaking it, his heart hurting with each beat. Pran approaches Pat slowly and touches his arm, his touch burning Pat's skin.

"Sorry."

Pat swallows his own tears that threaten to come out.

"You were so irresponsible. What if you were alone?"

"If you weren't there with me, I would have never done this."

Pat finally looks at Pran, confused, "What?"

"I accepted that drink just because I wanted to make you jealous," Pran shrugs.

Pran's words take some time to settle on Pat. A growing feeling of guilt grows on him. He did it because of him? Because of the prank? The guilt only fuels the remaining anger inside of him.

"Are you saying you put yourself in this shitty situation because of a prank? Are you fucking mental?" he growls at him.

Haze crosses Pran's face, but it doesn't take long for him to realise the connecting dots inside Pat's mind.

"Gosh, Pat! I was jealous because of the time you have been spending with Nong Prim. You truly are my boyfriend, and you need to remember it. Even if you want to choose another person..."

Pat felt the twist of annoyance that had become familiar to him by now. "Did it cross your mind that I may never recover my memories?

Pran shuffles his position, uncomfortable. His eyes rise to Pat's and reflect all the things Pat has learnt to hate in people's faces lately: fear, insecurity, disappointment.

"It did," his hands search for Pat's, "But you will, I will help you."

"Did I ask for your help?"

Pran's heart clenches when he feels Pat's hands disappearing roughly from his.

"What's wrong with you?" Pran asks, making Pat force a sarcastic grin.

Pat has never felt this bitter towards Pran. But then again, Pran has never demanded anything from him. Challenging him, for sure. But demanding, never. But now, the story is different.

"Apparently, everything. I don't remember the subjects well enough; I don't remember the adventures I had with my friends well enough; I don't remember my parents well enough; I don't remember our relationship well enough... So, everybody worries. Everybody looks at me in pity and disappointment."

Pran shakes his head quickly, "No, that's not true."

"Yes. Yes, it is! And now, I can't even do our rivalry or friendship well enough. Do you want to know why I like to spend time with Prim so much?" Every line of Pran stiffens, "We never talk about the past. She is always okay with me. She is the only person that doesn't askme to remember. She doesn't expect or want a different Pat. I'm always enough with her."

Pran's expression drops. Only his eyebrows are still tensed. More like a confused expression. But not quite. The corners of his mouth are down, no dimples to display.

"Don't you want to remember?" Pran asks without looking at Pat.

The anger subsides, and tired sadness is all that rests in Pat's eyes.

"Of course. That's what you took from everything I said. Because the only important thing for everybody is that I remember. Please go to bed, Pran."

That was the last meaningful thing they said to each other that day.

Pran didn't sleep many hours, and Pat made sure to run away from the dorm not long after he woke up. He left the breakfast (or was it more like a late lunch) and reassured Pran he was reachable by mobile. He went to his usual gym (according to Pa) to release some steam. He was quite surprised by the amount of people who knew him there. Yes, his body was buff. He remembers that was one of the first things he thought when he woke up from the coma. His body feels different. And he really likes it. He's motivated to maintain it.

Besides those hours in the gym, Pat spent all day at home with an annoyed Pa, who he forced to check on Pran every 1 hour (or maybe 45 minutes, who's counting?). Pa assured him Pran spent the day at home without any of the warning signs before throwing Pat out so she could prepare a special romantic dinner for Ink, complaining he had ruined her entire study day.

Pat's opinion: his sister has become ruder. Didn't even invite him to join them! Even if it's their anniversary, what kind of sister leaves her brother on the street without food? Only with his thoughts...

Pran had messaged him just minutes before his sister kicked him out.

[Phuen: Stop bugging your poor sister to come check on me. She needs to study.]

[You: She's going on her own will.]

[Phuen: You're sister is sweet. But she wouldn't check on me every 40 minutes unless you made her.]

That started a whole discussion with Pa that ended with Pat getting hit by a heavy book.

[Phuen: Stop it. I'll send you updates every hour.]

And he did. One or two every hour. Pat answered them with stickers and nothing more. He's not mad anymore. He just doesn't know how to start from here. He has never treated Pran bitterly before. Shallow screams with meaningless insults and teases? Yes, sure. But not that. So, he's regretting his impulsive attitude of yesterday. He didn't want to hurt Pran. Pran didn't deserve it.

My boyfriend...

Pat giggles at the thought. Maybe it is not as crazy as he first thought? Maybe it was real. Pat allowed that thought in his mind throughout the day. Why would Pran want him to recover his memories? If Pran was lying, it wouldn't be useful for him. The longer Pat doesn't remember, the more time Pran has to make this prank work. On the other hand, Pran is smart. He knows that if he doesn't put effort into making Pat remember, Pat will be suspicious. Then again, Pran was not shy to hold his hands. He even kissed him! Pran is not prone to skinship.

If it is real, how? How did they get together? And if they are boyfriends, do they kiss frequently? Does Pran let Pat touch him? Do they... Do other things? More intimate. Like the ones Pat fantasised about after the towel incident? Maybe like the one he fantasised about when he was a teenager? No! Like that one, no! Definitely no, please!

Pat shakes his head, hitting the button for the elevator. He had been drinking and eating with Korn, and he could use a pee. Not urgently. But he could go for it.

Reaching his floor, he opens the door. He's right away hit by a flowery scent, the environment candlelighted and quiet, soon to be broken by his sister's scream.

"Hia! What are you doing here?"

The little girl is running towards him with a t-shirt too big to be hers. Pat breathes and tries to ignore that fact while she pushes him back to the outside corridor.

"I'm going to sleep."

Her eyes widen.

"Didn't I say I was having a special dinner with P'Ink?"

Pat scratches his head, "I supposed that was already over."

"Oh, Hia! C'mon! Get out of here," she begs.

Pat faces her, speechless, mouth open.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with my little sister doing strange stuff in my bedroom."

"It's ours!"

"Same," he reaches to Pa's arm and shakes it, "C'mon, Pa! It's too late. I need to pee and sleep."

"Hia Paat, not here! We have agreed to this," her eyebrows raise as she remembers, "Oh, right, you forgot. Still... Hiiiaaa!"

"Where am I supposed to go then?"

She points with her two hands to the door across the hall.

"To your boyfriend's room, obviously."

His eyes are in a round shape, and the feeling of weirdness from the earlier discussion falls upon him.

"Paaaa!"

"Hia, help your sister out. For all the laundry I did for you!"

"Blackmail!"

"Yes. Bye!"

And she closes the door on his face. Rude! Damn, what to do now? He considers going home for the night. Tomorrow is still Sunday; he doesn't have classes. But going at this time of night, driving there, seeing his mom and dad again… Just one week after returning.

No!

No. Not an option. Going back to the bar and forcing his friends to go clubbing?

Hell, no!

Yesterday was enough!

He faces the door in front of him. Being with Pran is not bad. He is always a good company. He will also have the opportunity to apologise somehow and check on him. And he will probably be mad at Pat for showing up without announcing. So, win-win!

He knocks on the door and waits for the sound of footsteps. But nothing comes. The last time Pran sent him an update was approximately 15 or 20 minutes ago, just before his phone ran out of battery. So, he isn't probably sleeping. He knocks again. Nothing. Maybe he did fall asleep? Pat puts his ear against the door. He can hear a muffled, faint voice. So, Pran is awake. Or maybe watching a movie? He hesitates. Maybe Pran doesn't want to see him? With a pinch of guilt, he knocks harder, but still nothing.

What to do now? He can't sleep in the doorway. But he shouldn't disturb Pran if he doesn't want to talk to him, right? Aaaah, he needs to pee! What if Pran is hurt? Nah, how could he be hurt and talking but not screaming?

Nevertheless, that decides it. He turns and knocks on his own room door again.

"Open up, or else I'll use the key."

This time, who comes to open the door is Ink.

"Was that a threat?"

Pat grins and shakes his head disapprovingly.

"Don't you have any shame? Facing me when I just saw my little sister wearing your t-shirt?"

Ink arches one eyebrow, smiling easily.

"Why should I? Pa is the most beautiful, cutest, and smartest girl I know. If anything, I'm very proud. But seriously, meung," she gets a little closer, "why are you trying to ruin my night with my girlfriend? I would call you a cockblocker, but... It doesn't completely fit the context."

Pat throws his head back, asking the heavens to have mercy on him.

"Oh, Ink! My baby sister."

"Hia! What are you still doing here?" Pa appears from inside, the sound of her slippers tapping the floor with each step.

"I know, I know. But Pran is not answering the door."

"Have you tried to message him?" suggests Ink.

Pat shakes his dead phone in front of their face, "My battery died when I was getting in the building."

"Use your key, dumbass."

Pat looks at his sister.

"Our key doesn't open the other rooms, potato head."

She rolls her eyes on him.

"Not our key. Your key. From Phi Pran's room. You wear it on a necklace, pea brain."

When he was released from the hospital, they returned his belongings to him, among those a necklace with a key. Pat thought he had two keys to the room, or maybe it was to the front door of the dorm. But it fitted neither. It has been resting inside his nightstand drawer as an unsolved mystery.

"Oh... I think it's on my nightstand."

They step aside. The bedroom is filled with rose petals, and Pat tries hard to not take notice of his sister's bed next to his. Not that he doesn't like them to date. He is totally shipping those two together. Still, it's his baby sister. So cute and small…

He opens the drawer. There it is. The necklace is a simple silver one with a shiny key, similar to his won. He snatches it out.

"Okay, okay. Here it is," he gets up, heading outside, "Are you sure this is his? Why would I have a key to Pran's room?"

"Because he's your boyfriend!" both girls say at the same time, startling Pat.

Pa jumps on her tiptoes (way too excited, you may notice) and places a kiss on his cheek, "Thanks, Hia!"

She runs in, and Ink waves him goodbye.

"Have fun!" she says to him before closing the door.

Pat is again alone, back in the hallway. He halts for a moment, listening to the quietness of his surroundings. Then, puts the ear, once again, against the door in front of him. Again, a muffled voice. Maybe it is «voices». Plural. Maybe Pran is with someone. Some guy? Maybe that Wai fellow. Pat shakes his head. It's not time to entertain company. Pran needs to rest. It doesn't take long for Pat to understand the hypocrisy of what he said before he knocks again on the door that he's about to invade.

"Pran, I'm going in."

He waits again. Nothing.

Maybe it's Pran's parents. No. If it were they, Pran would have already come to shush him away. Maybe it's really just a movie.

Pat slides the key into the keyhole, slowly listening to the clicks of it. He braces himself for whatever is inside, but nothing comes. Only the sound. The sound becomes clear and melodious.

It is Pran singing.

He goes in and locks the door. The house is dark for the most part. Only a light on where Pat knows is the kitchen.

Pat steps in, dropping the necklace key in the bowl on the shelf next to the door he somehow knew was there. Maybe, from his last visit? A déjà vu feeling overcomes him. The image of his hand dropping the key on that square bowl, this fresh and homy smell, Pran's voice… As if it isn't the first time he steps inside this house like this. More than that even... As if he is meant to do it: an everyday, mundane, muscle-memorised thing…

Pran's rhythm of singing is moderately fast. Pat contains his laugh. Pran is not the best rapper, especially when he's singing in English. But the song changes its rhythm. Pat lets himself soak in the warmth of Pran's voice. He hasn't heard it since Pran was forced to leave their school. But it still feels so familiar.

He steps closer to the sound, and Pran appears like a strange and beautiful mirage. He is near the stove, swinging his hips inside his oversized white t-shirt to the rhythm of the song. The t-shirt is so big that it only allows a small part of his black shorts to be seen. Not that the shorts are that big...

"Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? If you only knew the bad things I like."

Pran's hair is messier than when they used to get into fights (the only times Pran lost his posture), and he's wearing his big square glasses. Pat's dick twitches with interest. All the skin of Pran's thighs is shown, exposed from his naked feet to the beginning of the fabric. Pat's hands curl with the desire to touch them, squeezing on the meatier parts. He wonders if it would cause him goosebumps as it's causing him. Would his thighs respond in red on the spots where he would press? Still thinking about how good Pran would look marked by him, he didn't notice how close he got to Pran.

"No matter what you say. No matter what you do. I only wanna do bad things to you."

Bad things is what I want to do to you.

"So good but– Ah! "

The scream is what prompts Pat's awakening, the accumulated pee threatening finally to come out from his bladder.

"Pat!"

When the surprise fades, Pran beams at him.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

He shakes his hand while pulling out his earplugs.

"Did you come to check on me? I'm okay. You don't need to worry. But I'm glad you're here. You should stay! Did you find your keys?"

Pat laughs, "Calm down. You're hyped!" his eyes drop to the frying pan, "Are you making an omelette now?"

The question startles Pran, who gets back to cooking, ensuring it doesn't burn.

"Yes. I'm hungry. Do you want some?"

Pat checks Pran's kitchen clock, which shines with the number 01:26.

"It's almost one and a half..."

Pran shrugs, smiling sideways at him, "Well… I got hungry all of a sudden. Just a quick snack."

Pran is hiding something. Definitely.

Pran takes his focus back to the omelette, leaving Pat with his suspicious thoughts. Pran's day passed with thoughts on a loop, guilt traps, pitying and then blaming himself, Pat and their relationship. The courage Pran had in the beginning has been slowly disappearing. The courage he used to cross the line with that towel stunt back at their parents' house. Now, it is different. Now, there is even someone who is providing Pat with what Pran can't.

Pran couldn't understand him at first. It seemed Pat didn't want to remember the past. And that made Pran angry. Angry at Nong Prim for incentivising that. Angry at Pat for the disrespect and the careless attitude, as if Pran didn't matter enough for him to remember. Angry at himselffor not being enough for Pat to remember or even to wantto remember.

But somewhen during the afternoon, between Nong Pa's visits, his anger subsided and was replaced by the weight of sadness. Everyone is asking Pat something he isn't able to control. Pran remembers the times Pat tried to please everybody and got himself drowned in more commitments than the ones he could handle.

The frustration, the guilt, and the pressure he is under pass through Pran in an empathic wave. Regret and insecurity. Should he be even trying to get back together with Pat? Prim seems better at handling this new Pat than he is.

"Are you really feeling okay?"

Pran's head jerks to the boy in front of him, the thoughts from the day still present in his mind.

"Yes, absolutely."

He loves Pat, and Pat loves him. Even if he doesn't remember it. He made sure Pran knew that through all the time they were together. Even if Pran is not enough to make him remember now. Enough... That was the word Pat used last night.

"You're wearing your glasses."

Pat tilts his head in the cutest way possible in this world. But maybe Pran is not the most impartial person… Pat chuckles, and that makes Pran notice his face. His thicker eyebrows led to one of Pran's favourite things in the world: Pat's eyes. So shiny and expressive, unlike Pran's. The curve they make at the corner of the connection between his eyelids and the puffiness under them. His perfect nose and high cheekbones. His sharp jawline and thick lips.

Kissable lips. Thoughts of using his tongue to wet them attack Pran. His tongue passed through those lips into his mouth, touching the wetness inside it too many times. Pran shakes his head to send away those thoughts.

"Yes... I lost my contact lenses somehow. I mean, I had one inside of my pocket..."

No. He can't. He's not able to. He's not able to give it up. It took him years to be with the love of his life. Yes, the love of his life. Because that is exactly what Pat is.

My soulmate.

He is not ready to give that up without trying everything he can. If after trying everything, Pat still wishes someone else… What will happen? That's a thought for another time.

"Yes, I suppose you did lose t—…"

"Pat!" maybe that was a tiny bit too loud, if the little jump of the other boy was any indication, "Sorry…" Pran whispers, "I was thinking about what you said last night. I didn't look at things from that... Your perspective. I didn't think about the pressure that I was putting on you. I'm sorry for-"

Pat stops him from continuing, raising his tone.

"Amazing! I'm the one who is sorry, and I really want to discuss this with you, but I can't hold it anymore. I need to pee!"

Noticing Pat crossing his tensed legs, he laughs.

"Go."

Pat's steps are not as large or fast as he wants, afraid that if he takes a step bigger, the pee will fall down his legs. Almost crossing the door that would give him access to Pran's bedroom and then to the bathroom, Pat is stopped by Pran's loud scream.

"NO, WAIT!"

The second that would take Pat to open the door to his sweet release was robbed by Pran, who was already ripping his hand away from the doorknob.

"Ai'Praaaan!"

The boy's head pops out, already from the other side of the door, "It will take just one minute."

Pran closes the door.

"I don't have a minute, Pran! I'll pee on your kitchen sink!"

"Don't you dare, you pig!" Pran screams from the other side of the door, reappearing panting just seconds after, "Done."

"Move!" he pushes Pran and limps as fast as he can to the bathroom.

He stays inside solely for the couple of minutes that took Pran to plate his omelette and sit down to eat. Pat walks to the kitchen counter with a sigh.

"Lord, I thought I was going to burst!" he arches an eyebrow, looking at Pran, "Why didn't you let me in right away?"

Pran doesn't look up, leaving his eyes on the omelette, "Nothing. Do you want a bite?"

Pran raises his fork to Pat's mouth, and the boy looks at him with inquisitive eyes but takes it in his mouth.

"Were you hiding your porn stash?" Pran smiles and rolls his eyes, "Or did you forget to flush?"

"I'm not dirty like you. It's you that forgets to flush."

"That's not true!" Pat lands his elbows on the kitchen counter.

He's absolutely hiding something, and Pat will search it through, but he's fed one more piece of omelette, and they have stuff to discuss. So, he will leave it for later.

Pat can get easily used to Pran feeding him. Still with half of the fork in his mouth, he stops his eyes on Pran's. Easy is losing himself there. It has always been. Pran's eyes are deep and dark; it's like falling into endless space. Pran flicks Pat's nose with the back of his finger. That surprises Pat and, strangely, makes him feel all giddy inside.

"So, you were saying about how you were wrong and how sorry you are…" Pat teased with a smile.

Pran pouts his lips in a challenging look, "I lost the feeling. Maybe I'll reconsider."

Pran eats more of the forked-cut omelette. Pran raises his eyes to him, his chipmunk cheeks making Pat chuckle. He coughs and gets back to what also brought him here.

"I'm sorry, Pran. I shouldn't have talked like that with you. Especially after the night you had."

"I get it," Pran shrugs, "It was my fault."

"No!" Pat shakes his head, "It wasn't. The one at fault is that motherfucker."

"Don't curse!"

"Oh, shut up!"

Pran laughs. The heavy feeling of this day has now faded.

"I'm truly sorry."

"I am sorry, too."

They smile at each other with contentment, accepting each other's words.

"But promise me you'll be more careful. Even if you want to make someone jealous."

"Hum, I will. Maybe I can find other ways of making that person jealous," Pat smirks and shakes his head, and Pran continues, "But, in exchange..."

Oh... That is his favourite expression.

"... you must promise me something in return."

"What?"

He saw this expression when Pran suggested they trade toys: he would give Pran the small guitar, and Pran would give him the green-skinned Tyrannosaurus rex.

"You can't date Prim …."

"Date her?" Pat laughs, "You don't remember… Right."

"What?"

Or when they agreed to stop fighting until the end of the class to avoid being thrown out.

"I think Prim is dating Dew."

"What?!"

Or when Pat agreed to exchange his uniform shirt with Pran after he had fallen on mud (very funny, by the way!) in exchange for Pran doing his homework for a week. A pretty nice deal if you ask Pat, even though his mother reprimanded him for the dirty shirt she didn't know wasn't his.

"Yes, an engineer and an architect. How scandalous!"

"Not as much anymore…" whispers Pran, "Then, you don't like her?"

"As friends."

"Right." Pran holds a smile, "Then, you can't date anyone. Man or woman. Until you recover your memories, and if you don't, it's fine. Just don't do it until I… Until I have time. Give me time."

Or when Pran agreed to steal two mango coconut jellies from his mom in exchange for two banana spring rolls with vanilla ice cream Pat's mom had made that morning.

"So, you may be condemning me to a lifetime of solitude. Don't you have any conscience?"

"I would prefer you to be with me," they pause, "Give me some time."

A smirk returned to Pat's face. Whenever and whatever the agreement, it always ended in the same way…

"Deal?"

Pran raises his fist, and Pat bumps it with his own.

"Deal."


The song Pran was singing was 'Bad Things' by Machine Gun Kelly and Camila Cabello.

So, the ff is reaching its end. As I said at the beginning, this was not going to be a long one.

But I'm really happy about the feedback I've been receiving in other platforms. So I want to thank you for taking the time to read and comment.

(And if you are not one of the happy contemplated by this 'thank you' leave a comment) xD

See you next time!